


For Hope

by emerald_autumn



Category: The Hunger Games (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, Family, Struggle, Suspense, triumph
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-20
Updated: 2018-02-20
Packaged: 2019-03-21 22:00:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 19,636
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13750071
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emerald_autumn/pseuds/emerald_autumn
Summary: What if Katniss really was pregnant during the Quarter Quell? What if, instead of Peeta being taken from the Games by the Capitol, it was Katniss? How would she and her child fare under the thumb of President Snow? How would the rebellion go?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is just my idea of a 'what if?' scenario that wouldn't leave me alone. Basically, it's a little canon compliant in places but certain things change. Also, the Graphic Violence tag is mainly because this is a Hunger Games story and I tried to emulate some of the darkness that was in the movies and books.

Deep breath in. Deep breath out. Repeat until the world made sense again. Inhale. Exhale. It wasn’t working. The world had stopped making sense when she volunteered to take her sister’s place in the Games.

When she changed the rules, and made sure there would either be two winners, or none.

When she’d caught the attention of President Snow.

When she’d inadvertently become a threat when all she wanted to do was protect her sister.

“Katniss?”

Peeta sounded worried. Katniss opened her eyes and looked up at her fiancé. No, he was her husband now. They’d had the wedding night to prove it. Married at seventeen.

And going off to war again.

“Was it real?” she asked, quiet and raspy.

Peeta looked angry and sad and so frustrated. She reached out and touched the worry lines on his forehead. He was too young for that. But then again, they were so old in other ways than age.

“Yes. Snow really is going to reap the year’s tributes from the Victors.” Peeta sounded as upset as he looked. But there was also resignation there too. Snow was a master manipulator, and this was just another move on his chessboard to keeping his reign secure.

Katniss nodded slowly and gulped down the building nausea. It was certain that she would be the female tribute. There was no other candidate. But there were two male tributes from Twelve. She looked up at her husband and he must have seen it in her eyes before she could speak.

“Don’t even say it,” Peeta said, almost scowling. “If my name gets picked, I have no doubt Haymitch will volunteer. I can’t do anything about that. But if his name gets pulled, I’m going to volunteer in his place. And there’s nothing _you_ can do about that.”

Katniss swallowed her protests. She knew that stubborn tilt of his chin, that firmed jaw. There was no arguing with him. She sighed in frustration and ran a hand through her hair. “Why can’t they leave us alone?”

“If they could, the Hunger Games would have ended decades ago,” Peeta murmured. He looped an arm around her and drew her in close to his chest. They settled back on the couch and stared at nothing in the silent room. Peeta played with her hair like he always did. Usually it brought a smile to her face, how much he loved her hair. But tonight, there was no joy, only weariness.

“Let’s go to bed,” she whispered after long minutes in silence.

Without a word, he took her hand and led her to their bedroom. They didn’t make love, not this night when they were numb and lost, they just held each other, unsure what would happen tomorrow.

 

***** *****

Things got worse. New Peacekeepers moved in and with them came an increase in taxes, produce expectations, whippings and curfew. Snow was tightening the reins in retaliation for the rebellions in the Districts.

Then came the day of the Reaping. Katniss stood up on stage beside a large bowl with a single piece of paper in it. Effie smiled and put on a good show, but she was not her usual jovial self. When she read out the name, ‘Katniss Everdeen’, she spoke with none of her flair. She sounded deflated, almost sad. Then she read out the male tribute’s name. ‘Haymitch Abernathy’. Katniss’ stomach dropped because she knew what would happen next.

“I volunteer as tribute.” Peeta sounded so calm when he said those four simple words. Haymitch grabbed Peeta’s arm and hissed something too low to be heard. Peeta firmed his jaw and stepped away.

_There’s nothing you can do about it._

Once again, Katniss and Peeta stood on the Tribute’s stadium, Effie between them. Just as they had one year before. Instead of clapping, the rest of the civilians raised their hands in the hand sign that Katniss had become known for. Katniss and Peeta mirrored the show of defiance and the Peacekeepers moved in.

“Wait, I have to say goodbye!” Katniss could hear Prim shouting in the crowd.

“Too late. You’re going to the train now,” the head Peacekeeper growled in his gravel-thick voice as he dragged her away.

“Goodbye!” Katniss shouted before the doors were slammed shut and the Tributes were dragged to the train.

 

***** *****

Their apartment in the Capitol was as grand and luxurious as it had been before. Katniss looked around in awe and dread. The perfection, masking such evil, made her feel sick.

No, wait…

She rushed from the bedroom and into the bathroom where she lost her breakfast and everything she’d eaten before it. When the violent heaving was over, she was panting and lightheaded. Peeta murmured softly, gently, as he held her hair back.

“I’m sorry,” Katniss mumbled, feeling miserable. Peeta helped her up and into the shower. He helped her clean up and then into bed.

“We’re going to have to tell someone soon,” Peeta murmured as they lay in bed. Katniss, her eyes shut and head resting on his broad chest. Once again, he played with her dark locks.

“Why?” Katniss mumbled, voice hoarse from vomiting.

“Maybe it’ll get you out of the Games, if they know you’re pregnant,” Peeta whispered, he rested a hand gently against Katniss’ flat belly. No one at home knew, except for the midwife who had diagnosed the pregnancy. They had been planning how to tell everyone when the Quarter Quell Games was announced.

“You know Snow won’t let that happen,” Katniss whispered, “’Regardless of age and circumstance.’ He wants me in these Games too much to give me a way out.”

Peeta didn’t say anything.

“What are you thinking?” Katniss asked suspiciously.

A sigh. “Nothing, just…nothing.”

Silence for a long moment. They lay in the dark, holding one another, and eventually fell asleep, hoping the nightmares would stay away.

 

***** *****

Katniss wore a white wedding dress for the second time in her life. The first had been a plain design, crafted in secret by her mother and sister when it became clear that Katniss and Peeta would not get their perfect day in the spotlight. Snow would not let them have happiness. So, they married in secret, with only a few close friends as witnesses. The rest of the world still thought they were engaged.

Peeta had looked handsome in his suit and Katniss had been so glad she hadn’t given in to her fear and denied all that had happened in the arena. She’d tried, stubborn creature that she was, but Peeta was equally as stubborn and hadn’t let her hide. It had resulted in several nasty fights, broken objects, angry words and hurt feelings, but somehow Peeta had wormed his way past all her shields and was determined to stay. Oh, how she loved that man.

They had announced their engagement to the world, under threat of Snow, then tried to conjure some sort of happiness from their reality. Then came the Quarter Quell and the reason why Katniss was wearing another wedding dress as she waited for her turn to appear on stage.

“A wedding dress?” Johanna Mason, the female tribute from District Seven, scoffed at the fluffy white concoction Katniss wore. The bitter Victor looked Katniss up and down with a look of scorn.

“Snow made me wear it,” Katniss defended, letting her own disgust at the situation colour her voice.

Johanna smirked, “Make him pay for it.”

Katniss walked out on stage and smiled at the audience who clapped in awe of her dress.

“My, my, what a lovely dress. Your stylist really has outdone himself,” Caesar Flickerman, sporting pink hair this time, cooed and beamed at Katniss’ dress. “You would have made a lovely bride.”

Katniss smiled at the host, “My husband certainly thought so.”

Silence for a moment, from the audience and the host, before Caesar gathered himself. In a mock quiet voice, he said, “Am I to understand that you are indeed married?”

“Yes.” Just that one word had whispers and questions swelling from the crowd.

“To Peeta Mellark?” Just to confirm for the thousands of viewers watching.

“Yes. I married Peeta in a private ceremony before the Hunger Games.” It almost hurt her face to keep smiling as expected.

The audience roared, they stood and shouted, waving their hands and making a fuss. Clearly the announcement met with their approval.

“Well then, congratulations are in order,” Caesar grinned with a lot of teeth and clapped his hands energetically, starting off another round of applause, “Now, I assume you could not wear this dress for your wedding, but is this the one you planned on wearing for the big occasion.”

“Yes, it was,” Katniss beamed again. Effie had started its production when the engagement became public and when they had married in private, the dress hadn’t been done. It also would have caught too much attention if the dress had been requested.

“Can you give us a twirl?”

Katniss caught Cinna’s eye in the crowd. He nodded, and she moved forward to centre stage. She twirled as instructed and watched as her dress caught fire…and burned. She trusted Cinna, which was why she kept going rather than panic at the thought of being left naked on stage.

When she saw the last of the flames extinguish, she stopped twirling. There was a collective murmur of awe from the crowd as she stood in a dark dress that flowed down to her ankles. She moved her arms and found they were attached to something, not adorned by sleeves as she first thought. She extended both arms and heard gasps and sighs from the crowd.

Cinna had given her wings.

“It’s like a bird. It has feathers. It looks like, uh, like a…” Caesar sputtered, clearly caught off guard.

“Like a mockingjay,” Katniss murmured.

“Beautiful,” Caesar breathed, “Big round of applause for our lovely, Miss Everdeen.”

The crowd roared as Katniss turned away and made her way up to where the rest of the Victors were waiting. She caught a few eyes and saw a few nods.

Then it was Peeta’s turn. He wore a handsome suit, probably the one custom-made for him for the big, public wedding that would have taken place. Katniss watched as he charmed the audience with his usual wit. She smiled, for him.

“So, Peeta, you’re married now,” Caesar said.

“Yes, we got married in private a few months ago,” Peeta said, big grin on his face.

“Some would say you are too young to get married, what would you say to them?” Caesar asked.

_Old enough to die and kill though._ Katniss gritted her teeth and tried not to let it show.

“I cannot imagine loving Katniss tomorrow more than I do today,” Peeta remarked and there were ‘awws’ from the crowd, “But I do wish we had waited.”

Katniss tried not to frown. What was he doing?

“Why?” Caesar looked perplexed, “You just said you loved her enough to marry her before you entered the Hunger Games.”

“Because now it’s not just us.” Peeta’s face was grim now, none of the charm from before.

_Oh no._ Suddenly Katniss knew what he was going to say.

“Now there’s the baby.”

Caesar looked like someone had slapped him, jaw open and eyes wide. People in the audience cried out but not with cheer. Now they were angry.

“Stop the Games!” Someone dared to shout aloud. Katniss couldn’t see who, but it started a chorus of similar shouts from the aggravated audience.

Peeta turned and made his way to stand beside Katniss. He grabbed her hand and Katniss clenched it tightly. They would have words later. For now…

People in the audience were standing, upset and calling for the Games to be cancelled. A pregnant tribute had never been in the Games before. Apparently, the people in the Capitol drew the line at sending expectant mothers to their deaths.

Caesar spluttered and tried to calm them. Katniss reached her other hand out to the tribute next to her and it carried on to the rest of the tributes. As one they all raised their joined hands. It started an even louder uproar and then the lights went out.

Time to go.

Back at their room, Katniss sat beside her husband on the couch as they waited for the result of their revelation tonight.

“I thought we weren’t going to tell anyone,” Katniss murmured. Not angry, but certainly not happy. This was a weakness that Snow would use. The President wouldn’t allow this to change anything but the way he killed them.

“I told you I’d try to save you,” Peeta said, unapologetic.

“It won’t change anything. They won’t cancel the Games, they can’t,” Katniss whispered. Peeta said nothing. They were still holding hands.

The doors opened, Haymitch and Effie strode in.

“Baby bomb was a clever idea but they’re still going ahead with the Games. Some people aren’t happy, so they won’t let that come up again and I would suggest you not try that trick again,” Haymitch declared.

“It wasn’t a trick,” Katniss said quietly.

Haymitch stared at her, face unreadable, maybe trying to see a lie. Effie looked close to tears and if it had been ‘proper’ she probably would already be crying.

“So, you really are pregnant?” Haymitch asked, “How far along?”

“Two months.” Katniss replied.

Effie sniffled then seemed to compose herself. She started prattling on about getting something gold for them all, to match the mockingjay pin Katniss wore as a token.

“Because we’re a team, aren’t we?” Effie finished, smiling at them all. Her powdered and painted face looked perfect as ever, but her voice cracked a little.

“Yeah, we’re a team.”

“Thanks, Effie.”

The Capitol woman dragged them all into a hug. Nothing was alright.


	2. Chapter 2

The day finally came. After training, showing the new Game Maker their skills, and choosing allies, it was time for them to enter the arena.

Cinna walked Katniss to her platform. “This suit is light, so probably a desert or tropical climate. Try to find water, keep cool, for your baby.”

Katniss hugged him tightly, trying not to cry. She climbed into the platform and then watched in horror as Cinna was ambushed from behind. She screamed though they couldn’t hear her. She saw them drag Cinna away and knew it was because of her. And that dress.

 _Your stylist has really outdone himself this time_.

She didn’t have time to mourn or wonder what Cinna’s fate was. The platform carried her up and into the arena. She was surrounded by water, forest behind her and the cornucopia in front of her. The weapons and supplies on display like cheese in a mousetrap.

“Peeta?” she whispered, trying to spot him on the other platforms. He must be on the other side.

The countdown was announced, she forced herself to calm. Deep breath in, deep breath out. She had to find Peeta, get a bow, get to safety. When the siren sounded, she launched herself into the water with single-minded focus. She swam for all she was worth toward the cornucopia, grabbed a bow, and fired at the first tribute she saw.

She whirled around and came face to face with Finnick Odair. He smirked, that cocky, preening grin, and showed the gold bracelet that Effie had given Haymitch.

Haymitch had found her an ally.

She followed the Victor down one of the stone paths amidst the water where the older woman, Mags, was pointing at something by one of the platforms.

Peeta was in the water, struggling against another tribute. Finnick jumped into the water just as the other tribute tugged Peeta under.

A cannon sounded, Katniss felt her stomach lurch in dread. A body appeared in the water, bobbing in the waves, facedown. She almost screamed. _No! No, no, no!_

Peeta burst to the surface, gasping for air, and something in Katniss unclenched. Her body shook with the sudden release of tension. Finnick helped Peeta to the shore then collected Mags on his back. The four of them fled into the jungle, the sound of the cannon followed them into the trees.

 

***** *****

Mags was gone, swallowed up by the poison mist. Johanna, the bitter, aggressive tribute from Seven, had joined them along with Beetee and Wiress. Katniss wasn’t sure what to make of any of them. She couldn’t afford to trust them, or even really like them. Because in the end, if she wanted to live, they would have to die.

Wiress was stabbed by one of the Career pack and the Game Maker made himself known by changing the rules they had only just figured out. They collected themselves on the beach and tried to work out their next move.

“Are you okay?” Peeta murmured when they were alone for a few minutes.

“I’m fine,” Katniss whispered, leaning in close for a kiss. It was passionate but brief. They would not give the Capitol all of them. It was bad enough they were seeing all their tender moments in these games.

“And…” Peeta slipped a hand down and onto Katniss’ belly. Still flat. He’d said several times how he looked forward to cupping her swollen belly and feeling their baby kick. He made it sound so sweet that she couldn’t fight him on it.

“Baby’s fine,” Katniss murmured, placing her hand over the top of his. Maybe if someone saw this they would donate something for the baby.

“Hey, lovebirds, time to go,” Johanna called, interrupting. The plan was for Beetee to electrify the beach, frying the Career pack when they came down from the jungle.

When they reached the giant tree, Katniss felt her heart sink when she was separated from Peeta. They had to stay together. Swallowing all her misgivings, Katniss reluctantly followed Johanna.

Then everything went wrong…

Katniss fired her arrow at the ceiling, electrocuting the dome and destroying the tree. She was tossed like a ragdoll into the foliage and the last thing she saw was the sky on fire, falling all around her. Then everything went black.

 

***** *****

She woke with a gasp. Tried to sit up but couldn’t move. She tried to raise her arms, her legs, and found them immobilised.

“Calm down,” a soft voice said to her. She looked to the right and saw a woman dressed in white. A nurse.

“What happened?” Katniss sputtered, gasping and desperate. Where was she? Where was Peeta? Was her baby okay?

“You were injured. This will help you sleep so you can heal.” The nurse injected something into Katniss’ arm and turned away

Katniss could only watch the nurse leave as she sank back into darkness.

The next time she awoke, or the next time she remembered waking, she was alone. She moved her head from side to side, lifting it off the mattress beneath her. She was in a bed, strapped down. She wore a hospital gown instead of her clothes.

She swallowed to ease the dryness of her throat and lifted her head to get a better view of the room. It was white and sterile. Nothing to help her. She tugged on the bands around her wrists.

“Ah, you’re awake,” a deep familiar voice made her snap her head up to meet the eyes of the figure in the doorway. The voice was not at all welcome and the silhouette in the door was even less so.

President Coriolanus Snow stood there, dressed in a dapper suit with a white rose pinned to the lapel. He was smiling that shark smile that gave Katniss shivers and there was something in his eyes – anticipation? triumph? – that made her nervous.

“Welcome to the Capitol, Miss Everdeen, I trust you will enjoy your stay and be a perfect guest,” Snow continued to smile as he spoke. He was pleased. Katniss could only stare as the man stepped further into the room.

“What’s going on?” she whispered.

“Well, after your little stunt with firing that arrow at the arena ceiling, the dome was destroyed. In the chaos, the Games were ended, and the Peacekeepers moved in to rescue the remaining tributes,” Snow settled himself into the only chair in the room. Katniss bit her tongue to keep from snarling out her thoughts on the Capitol’s “rescue”. “You were one of them. You’ve been recovering here for the past several days.”

Katniss stared at him for a long moment. He seemed far too smug. Her heart fluttered in her chest and her stomach gave an uncomfortable, nauseating lurch. “Who else?”

“Who else?”

“Who else was rescued?” She couldn’t have been the only one. She ran a list of names through her head of all the tributes she knew had been alive the last time she saw them.

_Peeta. Johanna. Beetee. Finnick. Maybe someone from the career pack?_

She couldn’t be the only one.

“Well, the female tribute from District Seven, Johanna Mason, was rescued with you. The others who were still alive when you pulled your stunt, are believed to have perished in the falling debris and resulting fire,” Snow informed her.

Katniss felt her stomach fill with dread. Peeta was gone? No, she would not trust this man, this monster. Despite herself, tears started building in her eyes and overflowed with no way for her to stem them with her hands bound. She hated Snow so much in that moment, not only for delivering such news, but for being there to witness her weakness.

“I can see you’re having a tough time processing, I’ll leave you to the care of your doctors.” Snow stood gracefully and strode to the door. As he reached it he turned around and smiled at her again, “I would not recommend trying to escape. The guards outside your door are under orders not to shoot you or harm you overmuch. But they are under no such orders for your fellow tributes, or your sister back in District Twelve. So, choose your actions wisely.”

With that he left Katniss alone with her tears and scrambled thoughts.

 

***** *****

Katniss found herself living in luxury in the Presidential Palace. She had been given a room in the back of the mansion, away from everyone else it seemed. For the most part, she had been left alone to brood and recover.

The threat to her sister had been enough to dissuade her from openly trying to escape but that didn’t mean she didn’t look for a way out. A task which she quickly discovered was pointless. The building was locked up tight with security. She had two guards outside her door, always. Their faces, covered with the white helmets and black visors, was familiarly claustrophobic. Their constant, silent observation didn’t help the feeling of being trapped. So far, she had not been allowed to leave her suite, but she assumed if she was ever made to leave the luxurious prison, they would follow her like two grim, silent shadows.

Shortly after breakfast, a week following the abrupt end of the 75th Hunger Games, Katniss’ solitude was broken by a woman in a grey dress. Unlike Effie with her outrageous garments of flair and fashion, this woman’s gown was oddly simple with no adornments to speak of, yet the obvious quality of the garment was clear, the fabric moving like soft silk. The simplicity of the garment still seemed so genuinely elegant so…Capitol. The woman wearing it didn’t smile at Katniss, merely ordered her to follow. Biting back her questions, Katniss did as instructed, very much aware of the two guards following close behind her.

She was led down a pristine hallway decorated with cream walls and gold trim. Fancy ornaments and odd paintings adorned the walls and corners. The room she was led to had golden double doors that opened when the woman in grey touched them. Rather than enter, she then turned and gestured for Katniss to proceed.

Reluctantly entering the room, Katniss took stock of everything around her. It was a beautiful dining room with a long wooden table and vases of white roses on every surface. Opposite the doors, was a wall of windows that overlooked the front lawn and the city beyond the gates. The day outside was grey and cold looking.

President Snow sat at the head of the table in a white suit, another rose on his lapel. A tea set took up the space in front of him on the table.

“Miss Everdeen, please, sit,” it was phrased as an offer, but Katniss knew better. She mustered up her nerve and took the seat Snow had gestured to, on his right. Snow nodded, looking pleased, “Tea?”

“No, thank you.”

“Do any of the treats displayed appeal?” he gestured to a small plate of cakes and candies.

“No, thank you.”

“Very well, all business then.” Snow put down his tea cup and leant back in his chair, completely at ease. Katniss had noted the position of a butter knife on the table and weighed the odds of using it, or stealing it. For now, the odds were not in her favour.

They remained in silence for several long minutes. Snow just sat, watching her, as if waiting for something. Katniss held his gaze but eventually she looked away, trying to figure out what the purpose of this meeting was.

“Why am I here?” she asked after the clock in the corner had counted down another ten minutes.

Snow sighed, sounding almost disappointed. “Well, no one knows you’re here. I intend to keep it that way for now. Save for a few staff members and myself, your presence here will be completely isolated knowledge.”

“Why?”

“Always so many questions,” Snow sounded amused, that shark smile was back, “My dear, one day I hope you will have more than just questions.”

“What more is there?” Katniss asked.

“Answers, Miss Everdeen. Answers to questions others don’t even know to ask,” Snow chuckled.

Another long silence followed.

“So, I’m just meant to stay here in this pretty little cage until…what? You have use of me?” Katniss finally asked, trying not to show anything.

“Of course,” Snow said, as if the answer was obvious. “For now, you will enjoy your stay in my home.”

“Why? What use could you have for me?” Katniss demanded.

Snow smirked, “In due time, Miss Everdeen.” He stood up, straightened his suit and strode to the door, “Malissa will take you back to your room. I’ll visit with you at a later date.”

Katniss stood and watched him leave, wishing she had her bow so she could shoot him in the back. Her fingers itched to pull that familiar string.

Snow paused at the door and turned back, “In the meantime, I suggest you get your rest. Child bearing, as I understand it, is a most strenuous task. You have your child to look after now.”

Katniss’ face morphed into one of horror before she quickly masked it. Not soon enough if the satisfied nod of Snow’s head was anything to go by. He disappeared through the golden doors and the woman in grey, Malissa, returned. Without a word, Katniss followed her back to the gilded prison.

That night she lay in her giant bed, wishing it wasn’t so big and cold and empty. She longed for strong arms to surround her, a gentle voice to sooth her. Tears brimmed on her lashes, but she refused to let them fall. She huddled in her blankets and tried to block everything out.

Her baby was alive. That much she knew because Snow looked far too smug to have been lying. He had something planned for her child. As sick as that made her feel, she couldn’t help but feel relieved that her baby was alive. Especially if Peeta was…

She turned over and punched the pillow next to her, pummelling it into place then tucking it close to her chest. She breathed deeply into the rose scented pillow and wanted to scream.

 

***** *****

Katniss hummed to herself as she sat by her window. She hugged her knees to her chest and watched the leaves fall outside. She watched people gather them up and remove them from the lawn regularly. She wondered if their sole job was to remove leaves.

Boredom had set in days ago. It was almost two weeks now since the Games and all Katniss had been permitted was to wander the rooms. She had explored every inch of the lavish space. She was not visited by any but the servant, Malissa, who brought her meals. They never spoke, they rarely even looked at each other.

Until that morning when the woman had informed Katniss that Snow would send for her sometime today.

Katniss both dreaded the encounter and looked forward to any break from the boredom. She had no doubt that the message, delivered with her breakfast, had been made to put her off balance. She had been waiting all day for Malissa to bring her to the meeting. Snow was keeping her waiting deliberately, to watch her squirm. She was sure of it.

She stood up with a sigh and walked around. She grimaced at her clothes. Her outfit was laid out every morning by an unseen servant. She never got to choose her own clothes. Today’s outfit was a blue gown, the same colour as the one she had worn two years ago, when she had volunteered to replace Prim. While that one had been thin and rough from the cheap material, this dress was far softer and flowed like silk, down to her ankles. Her shoes were silver heels that matched the necklace and bracelet she had been given. She looked like she was going to a ball, a party, some extravagant event; not a meeting with her captor. She felt like a doll Snow enjoyed dressing up for his entertainment.

Katniss paced around the room, trying to get used to the heels. They were so dainty she was afraid of breaking them if she placed a foot wrong. Not that she cared about Snow’s “gifts” but she didn’t want to incur his wrath for the moment.

Malissa pushed the doors open and nodded to Katniss. By now, she knew what this meant. She followed the grey woman out of the suite and returned to the room with the golden doors.

Snow was once more seated at the head of the long table, only instead of a tea set, there was a full set of dining ware in front of him and in the place to his right, where Katniss would sit. Clearly, he expected Katniss to dine with him for the evening meal. Katniss felt her stomach churn at the thought.

“Sit, Miss Everdeen, don’t loiter in the doorway,” Snow spoke without looking up from where he was laying a napkin on his lap.

Katniss moved into the room and took her seat, watching the strange man as he prepared the multitude of cutlery for a meal. She looked down at her own dining wear and found nothing different to Snow’s. Slowly and carefully, she arranged everything the way Effie had taught her.

“Well done, you have obviously learned some manners from your time spent in the Capitol,” Snow said approvingly. The implication that it was the Capitol that had taught her manners, while true to a point, grated on Katniss something fierce. She forced herself to hold her tongue and remain silent as she arranged everything to her liking. Finally, she raised her eyes to meet Snow’s.

The man was already watching her. She stared back, determined this time to win this strange little game he seemed intent on playing. Katniss listened to the clock ticking the corner as she watched the President. She didn’t take her eyes off him, even when waiters entered and laid their food before them. The aromas from what must be a chicken dish of some kind made her stomach rumble and though she felt slightly embarrassed by the sound, she knew she wasn’t the only one. She saw Snow swallow more regularly, obviously, the aromas were making him salivate too.

“Are we going to eat or merely stare at each other?” Katniss finally asked.

Snow almost looked delighted. “Of course. I am many things, Miss Everdeen, but I am not wasteful.” He turned away and took in his food, only then did Katniss do the same.

The food looked as good as it smelt. Katniss watched as Snow started eating before she picked up her own cutlery and tentatively began eating.

“Aren’t you going to ask if it’s poisoned?” Snow asked. The sudden comment gave Katniss pause, because she _had_ considered that.

“You said I had a purpose here, if your purpose was to poison me then I would assume there would be cameras. You’re not wasteful, after all.” Katniss deliberately took another bite of her food.

Snow laughed, “Very true.”

They ate in silence. Katniss watched Snow out of the corner of her eye but never deliberately stared or made eye contact. When the food was all gone, Katniss sat back and waited.

“That was lovely, even if the company was subpar,” Snow remarked as he stood. Katniss gritted her teeth and tried not to glare holes into the President’s back as he left without another word. Malissa appeared in the doorway and Katniss followed her back to her room.


	3. Chapter 3

They fell into an irregular sort of pattern as the weeks passed. Every four to seven days, Malissa would usher Katniss from her gilded prison and to wherever the President was. Sometimes it was in the room with the golden doors, but once it was in his office and another memorable occasion it was out in the garden. It was the first breath of clean air Katniss had absorbed for some time and she relished the sun on her skin.

Once, she had been taken to the medical wing of the estate and given an exam by a doctor. The smiling man had run several tests and even run an ultrasound wand over her belly. Katniss got to listen to her baby’s heartbeat and see it resting in her womb.

Suddenly it was very real. It was not just an abstract concept. It was reality. She was pregnant. A small human was growing inside her. At three months pregnant, she wasn’t showing much, but she could detect a slight thickening in her abdomen. Or perhaps it was wishful thinking. Her breasts certainly weren’t her imagination. They ached and were visibly swollen. She’d blushed when she dressed one morning and found that the bra she had been given was a size up. She didn’t want to think about who had been watching her closely enough to gage when her breasts grew. It made her feel slightly sick to imagine someone observing her like that.

She hadn’t suffered much morning sickness, for which she was grateful. So far, she had had a very healthy pregnancy, with little fuss or worry. Aside from the fact that she was being held against her will, of course.

The one thing she did worry about, was their future. Snow seemed to be waiting, perhaps until the baby was born, before enacting his plan. Whatever that may be. It made Katniss worry about her own fate, but also her child’s. What was to become of them when the baby was born?

She hadn’t heard anything about the other tributes, about her family. About Peeta. Were they alive? Snow would have told her if they were dead, because that would hurt her. Or maybe he was saving such news for a certain occasion. All the questions just made her worry more.

One day, during her sixth week in the palace, Katniss was collected by Malissa and escorted to a different room. The door was pearl white offset with pink trim. It appeared quite feminine with the dainty designs painted on the door; small birds and butterflies. But who was she to judge what was masculine or feminine in the Capitol?

Katniss entered the room wearing a pretty, yellow summer dress and black tights over golden boots. Unlike before, she had not been supplied with jewels and adornments for her hair, so she simply pulled her long dresses into her favourite braid over her shoulder.

Inside the room, she expected to find Snow, already seated at some sort of table arrangement. Instead she found herself in what looked like a child’s playroom. She blinked in astonishment at all the toys, the soft carpet, the myriad of colours and decorations.

“Hi,” a soft female voice brought her attention to her right and she found a young girl with dark hair plaited in a braid just like hers, standing shyly by a toybox. She beamed at Katniss like she was a favoured friend and Katniss offered a small smile back.

“Hello,” Katniss said a lot quieter than the girl. “Who are you?”

“I’m Lilia,” the girl grinned and stepped closer, fidgeting her hands with her dress, which looked very similar to the one Katniss herself wore. It was more than a little disconcerting.

“Hi Lilia, I’m Katniss.”

“I know. I watched you in the Games. You were so amazing, how you saved yourself and Peeta. I saw you kissing,” the girl blushed and giggled, “I told my grandfather I wanted to love someone like that one day.”

“Your grandfather?”

“President Snow.”

Katniss kept the smile on her face, but it was hard. She was in the presence of another Snow, much younger and seeming so innocent. Did that treacherous blood run in the family? Was this a trick?

“Lilia, can you tell me why I’m here?” Katniss asked.

Lilia bit her lip for a second before she straightened her back and fixed Katniss with a small grin. “I wanted to meet you. When I saw you in the garden with Grandfather, I asked if I could meet you and he said yes.”

Katniss nodded as if that made sense. For someone so calculating and evil, he seemed to care for his granddaughter. How long would that last? A cynical part of Katniss wondered if the man would send his own flesh and blood into the Games to keep his power.

He'd said only a handful of people would know Katniss was even on the estate. She could only guess that Lilia finding out was a mistake, a miscalculation. Katniss wondered if it would change anything.

“So, what are we going to do today, Lilia?” Katniss asked gently, looking around the room.

Lilia grinned again, reaching out and taking Katniss’ hand, “Will you play with me?”

So began an afternoon of playing with Lilia’s toys, drawing on crisp, cream paper and enjoying an afternoon snack of sweet cakes and tea. Katniss found herself enjoying the company of the young girl, watching in awe, how innocent and sweet the child was. She reminded Katniss of Prim, only Prim had not been this naïve for years. Living in the Districts, where food was scarce, and shelter was sparse, tended to erase any naivety in the children.

She wondered what Snow’s purpose had been in allowing the contact. Was it to build ties that would keep Katniss under control?

 

***** *****

Boredom might actually kill her. Two Hunger Games hadn’t done the job but sitting alone in her room might dissolve her brain. Katniss sighed as she stretched up, her back aching from where she carried the extra weight of her baby. She was six months along now and showing, her belly was a significant dome underneath the lovely outfits provided for her.

The baby kicked, and she smiled, gently smoothing her hand over the fluttering movements. Her smile was bittersweet. She was so thrilled to feel her baby moving, to know it was alive and real. But she was also…disappointed? Upset? There might not be a good enough word to describe what she felt that Peeta wasn’t around. That Peeta was somewhere – alive or dead, free or captured, back home or somewhere else – and missing out on these little moments that he had so looked forward to. Katniss was alone and in an uncertain situation.

“We’ll be okay, baby,” Katniss murmured to her unborn child. She often sang to the babe when neither of them could sleep. It seemed to soothe them both.

Katniss stood and started pacing the room. Over the past four months she had been ensconced in this room, she had walked around every available space, just for something to do. She wasn’t allowed any entertainment except looking out the window. She didn’t have any kind of access to current events, even the spin the Capitol put on things. She was desperate to hear news of home, to know what had happened in the wake of the aborted Games. It was frustrating.

The door opened and Malissa stepped in, wearing her customary grey dress. Katniss followed her without a word. She was led to the room with the golden doors. So, she was meeting with Snow. Sometimes she was taken to hang out with Lilia in the girl’s bedroom, or playroom, once in a solarium.

She never saw Lilia and Snow at the same time.

The President was seated at the head of the table as usual, however instead of a place next to him, a place was set at the opposite end of the table. It was a significant difference to the regular routine.

Katniss took her seat and stared straight ahead at Snow. She had gotten good at his staring matches. He seemed to like it when she was the last one to turn away. It was like he was testing her, to see who would flinch first. Sometimes she wanted to plunge her butter knife into his eye and watch the white rose in his lapel turn red. Those were the times that he won. She was getting better at ignoring the urge and simply staring at the man, cataloguing his every feature. It was an undesirable occupation, but she would take the small triumph of winning against the strange man.

Snow smirked when he met her gaze, “We’re going to shake things up tonight, Miss Everdeen.”

“Shake things up how?”

“We’re going to play a little game.”

Katniss shivered. A game? Like the Hunger Games. Like the staring matches they had. Like the strange conversations. Like Snow keeping her here until she could perform whatever he planned.

“This game is simple. It’s an edited version of the children’s game, Truth or Dare. One of us will ask, ‘Truth or Dare’. If the other person says Truth, the first person asks, ‘How many questions?’. The number the second person chooses must have some significance. You can’t simply say ‘one’, for the sake of it. You need to choose a number that is significant for something you see, or hear or know, in the moment and to your situation. Then the first person will ask that many questions, the second person will answer, and defend their answer when asked.”

“Now, if the second person says ‘Dare’, they must do what the first person says, in the most literal sense, and also within the timeline specified. The second person may also ask for justification for the dare which the first person must provide. This is the game we are going to play. Are you ready to begin?”

Katniss stared at the mad President in astonishment, “Why?”

“Because I want to. Now, are you ready? Or would you prefer to return to your room?”

Katniss knew that returning to her room would be a triumph for Snow, but could also lead to punishment. She hadn’t been punished with anything more than isolation and lack of stimulation, but she was still very aware how precarious her situation was.

Inclining her head, Katniss settled back into her chair and waited.

Snow grinned, “Good. So, Truth or Dare, Miss Everdeen?”

Katniss considered, “Truth.”

“Number of questions?”

A pause, “Four.”

“Why?”

“The number of months I’ve been here.”

Snow inclined his head, “Accepted.” He leant back, looking relaxed. “Who is the father of your child?”

Katniss sucked on her lip, “My husband.”

Snow’s lips twitched as if he was pleased, “What is your husband’s full name?”

“Peeta Mellark.”

“Were you truly in love during the 74th Hunger Games?”

Katniss paused. How to relay one of the most complicated situations she’d even encountered in few words? “At the beginning, no, but by the end of the Games, yes, I was in love with Peeta.”

Snow nodded, “Do you believe he is alive?”

Katniss’ breath hitched, she wanted to look away, but she couldn’t give him that satisfaction. Instead she firmed her jaw, “Yes.”

Snow nodded, “Well done, our first round. Now it’s your turn.”

“Truth or Dare?”

“Truth.”

“Number of questions?”

“Seventeen.”

Katniss blinked, shocked, “Why?”

“That is the number of years you have been alive, my dear. Surely that number is significant to both of us.”

Katniss nodded once. Yes, being challenged by a seventeen-year-old girl from the Districts, must be an important irritant for Snow. “Accepted.”

She tried to come up with something, but she had so many questions that she drew a blank. Snow stared back at her, impassive. Finally, she asked, “Why do you like white roses so much.”

“White is the colour of purity, or beauty. Nothing surpasses the cleanliness of white. And roses are so soft and delicate, but so thorny as well, they are both beauty and beast in one package.”

“How many of the tributes survived the 75th Hunger Games?”

Snow smirked, “Many of the tributes survived the 75th Hunger Games. I don’t recall an exact number as to how many are still alive today. It could be over fifty.”

Katniss cursed inwardly. She hadn’t been specific enough. All the past Victors were classified as tributes, so of course the ones who hadn’t been reaped, were still alive. She had just wasted a question.

“Is Peeta Mellark still alive?”

“As far as I know, yes.”

Katniss nodded, not letting her relief show. She was afraid to ask about her family, because she wasn’t sure she’d like the answer. She asked question after question until she was finally on the last one and she took a stab at trying to figure out her captor.

“What’s a rule you live by?”

Snow looked faintly disturbed by the question, but he answered, “Never let them see you bleed. It is an important lesson to learn, dear girl. Never let them see you bleed.”

Katniss didn’t respond. Snow summoned the servers and their dinner was placed in front of them. Katniss had almost forgotten about the food. They had been playing the game so long and so intensely that she had forgotten where she was.

She ate in silence, mulling over everything she had learnt and trying to figure out if any of it was relevant.

Peeta was alive. That was important. Johanna was alive but captured, that she had gleaned. So was Finnick’s Annie. She didn’t know where they were, but she would find out.


	4. Chapter 4

“One month, two months, three months, four, five months six months, seven months, more,” Katniss muttered to herself as she paced her bedroom. She had nothing better to do and the odd little rhyme had been in her head for hours as she waited out her labour. She bit her lip and gripped onto a chair as another contraction gripped her.

She was terrified, exhausted, sick with pain. She was only just barely eight months along in her pregnancy. It was too early, but she had no doubt that she was in labour. Her water had broken an hour ago and by sheer force of will she hadn’t cried out to the guards outside her door. She would not give them the satisfaction, plus she didn’t know what Snow’s plan was for her child. It was better for them both if Snow remained in the dark for now.

She hated that man. She had imagined many times over the course of her labour about how she would kill the monster. He was the reason she was going into labour now, why her child was in danger.

That morning, he had sent Malissa to get her. Instead of the gold room, she had been led to a room much like a study and placed in front of a screen.

“What is this?” she’d asked, a feeling of dread in her belly.

Snow had just smiled and turned the screen on.

What followed was the horror of watching what had become of her home. She saw the rubble, the dirt, the gutted houses. The bones.

Was Peeta among those dead? Her mother, sister? What about Gale? Were they all gone?

As much as she’d hated it, she had cried. She had heaved in great gulping sobs as she watched the footage replay on a loop. Everything was gone. There was no life for her to return to.

She was escorted back to her room by Malissa while another man helped her stay steady as she walked. Neither spoke to her as she was abandoned to her glorious cage. She screamed and wailed for what might have been hours.

Then she realised her pain wasn’t just in her heart.

Now she paced her rooms wondering if anyone was watching her torment. She clutched her belly as another ripple surged across her abdomen.

The door opened suddenly, and people rushed in. People she didn’t know. Katniss tried to push them away, but they managed to drag her from the room. She stayed awake as they cleaned and re-clothed her in a fancy robe. A doctor wearing a mask checked her over and then left her alone. She was no doubt being watched but as her labour progressed she didn’t care.

She screamed and cried as pain wracked her body. She wished her mother was here, her mother who had been through this before, who knew what pain was normal and what wasn’t. She wished Peeta was here, to comfort and be strong for her.

But she was alone as her baby was expelled from her body with a sharp cry. The babe wailed and fussed as Katniss held the tiny body to her chest, looking down at the strange screaming creature. It was so foreign looking, so alien, yet it was hers, her baby.

The same doctor returned, cleaned the baby under Katniss’ watchful gaze, looked Katniss over and then left again.

Katniss studied her babe, a daughter, now wrapped in a soft white blanket.

She didn’t want to go to sleep but her eyes were sore and gritty. Just closing her eyes should be okay…

She woke with a start to find someone taking her baby from her arms.

“No,” she growled, as fierce as she could. The doctor merely placed the baby in a cradle by the bed, checked them both over and left again. Katniss was certain she had never heard the man speak. Maybe he couldn’t.

Katniss gazed at her daughter with more love that she thought possible. She loved the strange little being more than she could imagine. She would die for her child.

The door opened, and Snow entered the room, impeccably dressed and wearing an almost triumphant grin. Katniss gave him a blank look, one she had perfected in her time having those staring matches. Inside she was trembling. She had no doubt that this was his plan. He’d shown her the destruction of District 12 so that she would be upset. He might not have intended for her to go into early labour, but it had happened, and he seemed pleased with it.

“Now, Miss Everdeen, we can begin,” Snow said, sounding almost eager as he looked from Katniss to the child and back.

“Begin?”

“Your real reason for being here. Now, you’ll have tonight to rest and come morning, I’ll be seeing you again,” Snow said. He looked almost predatory as he watched her before turning on his heel and leaving.

Katniss shivered and reached out to touch her daughter. The baby didn’t move in her sleep, but Katniss was comforted by the warmth of the child’s soft skin.

 

***** *****

She was to be a puppet. She was to lie to the people in the Capitol, renounce all she had done or might have done, for the rebels that Snow said were amassing in the Districts. If they were, then Katniss hoped they would forgive her for what she was going to do.

A man in a grey suit, the same colour as Malissa’s dress, gave her lines and accompanying questions. She was forced to read them over and over until she knew them in her sleep.

“You will be asked these questions in this exact order. All you need to do is deliver the appropriate response,” Snow informed her when he delivered the news of her fate, “You will smile accordingly, cry when asked, be polite and demure. Be what the people expect.”

Katniss has said nothing. What could she say? While her daughter was in her body, she was safe, they both were. Now, her baby could be taken away at a moment’s notice, if Katniss didn’t follow orders.

So, she memorised the lines, practised with a facial coach on how to present her expression. She learnt a lot from the woman who taught her. If nothing else, she learnt how to beat Snow at his staring game. They still played every other night. Their staring game, the Truth or Dare game. Snow was a master at games he could win, and he liked to demonstrate the talent.

A week after her daughter was born, she was still aching from the birth and wanted nothing more than to rest. But Snow ordered her in front of the camera and she followed the script exactly as the tyrant had requested. She spoke to Caesar Flickerman. She wore a beautiful gown with her pretty Capitol makeup done just right. She probably looked beautiful. Inside she felt ugly, rotten.

Behind the camera was a guard holding onto her baby, sleeping soundly in his arms. She prayed the little girl didn’t wake or make a noise. She had to focus on Caesar. And try not to think about what she might be doing to the rebels who had started to use her as a symbol.

She hoped they didn’t believe her. More than that, she hoped they could save her. By revealing her to the public, Snow was taking a gamble. Now the rebels would know she was alive. They might still use her as a symbol for their war.

So, she took a deep breath, pasted on the expected expression that she didn’t feel, and began to speak.

 

***** *****

Peeta Mellark was listlessly eating his lunch in the mess hall of District Thirteen, when a news broadcast was aired on all the screens.

Katniss Everdeen smiled blandly at the camera. She was beautiful, with her hair done up, her makeup accenting her lovely eyes, and her gown was so pretty it would make many women envious.

Peeta’s eyes filled with tears and he tried to choke back his sobs. She was alive. His wife was alive!

Then what she was saying filtered into his brain and horror dawned. He heard angry murmurs around him but paid closer attention to his wife. The camera showed her sitting in an opulent chair, chatting with Caesar Flickerman. Her tone was bland but calm, her face was bland and calm, everything about her was…bland and calm.

It was so false.

“This is not good,” Haymitch appeared at his side, talking quietly. The two hadn’t really gotten along that well since the Games ended. They hadn’t managed to rescue Katniss, and Peeta blamed part of that on Haymitch. “She’s going to discourage all the rebels with this talk. She’ll shut us down.”

Peeta eyed him from the side, “Did you know she was alive?”

“No,” the answer was immediate, almost insulted in tone, “If we’d had any idea she was alive, we would have launched rescue missions for her. So many people joined us because of her. I did.”

Peeta couldn’t doubt his sincerity.

“Come on,” Haymitch ushered him away to a control room occupied by Senator Coin, Plutarch, Effie, Katniss’ mother and sister, Gale, Beetee, Finnick, Boggs, basically anyone who had anything to do with Katniss was in the room.

“This is a disaster,” Coin stated, she glared at Plutarch, “This is not the girl you promised all those months ago.”

Plutarch set about calming her, but Peeta’s attention was drawn to the screen where the video was paused on Katniss smiling blandly at the camera.

“It was obviously a mistake to put our faith in a girl little more than a child,” Coin concluded.

“For all we know the Capitol has brainwashed her,” Beetee stated, “She’s been with them for months.”

“Never the less, she’s obviously a lost cause, we need to do damage control,” Coin declared, “Are you ready on the next video?”

“She wouldn’t do this,” Peeta murmured, barely above a whisper, not really talking to anyone, still staring at the image. Something about it struck him as wrong. He kept searching her for any signs of change, distress, but she looked the same as before.

“Well she did, now we need to-”

“Where’s the baby?” Peeta suddenly realised what was wrong. Katniss looked the same as when he last saw her, but she shouldn’t. She should be eight months pregnant, with a big round belly. But her body was as slim as ever.

“What baby? I thought that was a trick?” Boggs asked.

Peeta shook his head and finally looked around the room, “Katniss was two months pregnant when we entered the arena for the Hunger Games, she would be barely eight months pregnant now. So, where’s the baby?”

Everyone turned to the screen and he watched them realise what he had seen. Katniss was no longer pregnant.

Katniss’ mother whimpered but smothered it with a hand to her mouth. Prim clung to her with desperate eyes and strong fingers.

“She either lost the baby or they’ve taken it from her,” Beetee murmured, the only one apparently able to say it out loud.

“If they have her baby, holding it hostage, she’ll do or say whatever Snow wants,” Haymitch said, “She’ll do anything for her kid.”

Peeta nodded and swallowed the rising bile in his throat. His wife was alive, the fate of his child was unknown, and both were so far out of his reach he might never see them again except on this screen.

He left the room and everyone behind him in silence.

 

***** *****

Katniss’ broadcasts came in twice a week from then on. She smiled blandly, even cried sometimes, as she listed all the reasons the rebels were wrong, and the Capitol was right.

Peeta would never lose hope in her, but many others were fast losing faith in their Mockingjay. They didn’t believe that the baby was real, they thought she was either brainwashed or saying these things of her own free will. Either way, she was lost to them.

Then came the seventh broadcast and something happened.

Katniss was smiling blandly and talking when suddenly something caught her attention from behind the camera. Her eyes flickered to the side and she stopped speaking. The camera caught a moment of raw emotion on her face before quickly cutting to Caesar who was urging her to continue.

Katniss seemed to rally herself, making an excuse before asking the question to be repeated.

This time it was Caesar who was interrupted. He jumped and glanced over his shoulder with unusual indignity when a loud noise sounded.

The cry of a baby.

Katniss made to stand before she was grabbed and forced to sit once more. She looked desperate and unsettled as she stared past the camera. For the first time, there was real emotion on her face.

Fear. Dread. Anger.

Caesar announced they would be terminating the interview.

Peeta’s heart was in his throat. That must have been his baby crying in the background. The baby was being held by someone behind the camera. Katniss had been startled by the baby crying and had thrown off whatever script Snow had given her.

“No!” Katniss’ sudden shout almost made Peeta jump. She wrenched herself from the men holding her and rushed beyond the cameras, “Don’t-” The camera feed cut off.

Peeta shuddered and left the mess hall. He wasn’t sure where he was going, but he couldn’t stay with the whispers and glances from the people of District 13.

Later, Haymitch found him. “A lot of people now believe she’s being held against her will. People from the Capitol have reached out to us through our underground networks. This slight change in the script will have repercussions for Snow, and for us. A lot more people are joining us on principal because if Snow can hold a mother captive by threatening her baby, then he can do the same or worse to them.”

“But what will he do to Katniss?” Peeta croaked, “Snow won’t like this. He won’t let it go unpunished.”

Haymitch said nothing because there was nothing to be said.

 

***** *****

The man who had held her daughter was dead. The guard that had been instructed to keep Katniss’ child quiet during the live interview had disappeared and Katniss knew what that meant. Snow did not forgive mistakes.

Seneca Crane came to mind.

After her daughter had been born, they were moved from the Presidential Palace. They took her to the living quarters for the Tributes. In an odd touch of irony or perhaps tragedy, she was given her old floor. It was so empty and quiet without Peeta or Haymitch or Effie. She had her baby girl, so that would have to do.

When she had reacted to her daughter crying, they had cut the live feed and taken her back to the tribute’s building. But instead of taking her to her floor, they were taken to a different one. The thirteenth floor.

There she found horror and pain as they beat her then tied her to a chair. Her bruised body was forced to perch stiffly on the uncomfortable surface for an hour. Her baby grumbling and crying in a cot just a few feet away.

“If you stand from this chair before you are permitted, you will die. You both will.” The guard who had tied her up gave that final warning then left her alone.

Katniss watched her daughter fret as the minutes ticked by. Finally, she heard the click of the threat disengaging and she stood as quickly as her sore, stiff body could allow.

She fed and changed her daughter then just walked around, rocking her gently. Out loud she only called the baby “my daughter” or “my child”. In her head, she had named her, Hope. For everything that word represented to them both. It was a small rebellion against Snow, the only kind she could really afford now.

All too soon her peace was interrupted by Snow himself striding into the room. Without pausing he backhanded Katniss and sent her sprawling, catching herself just in time to prevent her daughter from being hurt.

“You made a mistake, Miss Everdeen,” Snow murmured, “I don’t like mistakes.”

Malissa entered the room and fastened a broad collar around Katniss’ throat. It felt soft like leather, but it was heavy and thick. Her daughter was taken and put in the crib again. The baby was given an injection and made to sleep.

 “She will slumber for many hours, which is good because this will not be a quick lesson,” Snow murmured.

Katniss gulped and then wished she didn’t. The collar tightened, she felt something prick against her skin.

“I would be very careful about any kind of movement Miss Everdeen,” Snow said, sounding oddly pleased, “This collar measures your heart rate, swallowing reflex, movement of the jaw. It has been set at a certain level, if you exceed that level, the poison in the vials within the collar, will be released. Just to demonstrate, I’m going to show you now.”

Snow pressed into the side of the collar and Katniss felt when the needles engaged. They stabbed into both sides of her neck and she felt ice flood her veins.

Then she was burning. She screamed and writhed under the relentless pain of the poison flowing through her blood. It felt like it was eating her very molecules.

When she finally came back to herself she was still shaking and twitching. The collar was gone. Snow was seated in an elegant chair by her daughter’s crib. Katniss wanted to break his hand when she saw him touch Hope’s head.

“That was just a small dosage, Miss Everdeen. You’ve been in pain for almost an hour, any more and your heart would stop,” Snow turned his cold eyes to Katniss, where she was still sprawled on the floor, wearing that gown he had dressed her in, “A larger dose will guarantee death in minutes. From now on, you will sit in this room every night for an undisclosed amount of time, wearing that collar.”

Katniss glared at him as he stood and left. Finally, her limbs started to work, and she managed to stand on shaky legs. She hurried to her daughter and carefully held her in her arms.

Hope was still asleep.


	5. Chapter 5

The bruises from the beating faded within a few weeks. Katniss went back on the air within a few days and the ugly blooms were hidden carefully with makeup. It could do nothing about her swollen eye, but Caesar implanted the cover story that some sort of accident had befallen someone behind stage last time. Katniss had been hurt in the ensuing struggle. It was all very tragic, and the man was a master at lying with a smile.

The old routine fell back into place but with one new exception: the collar.

Every night, the guards took her to the thirteenth floor and strapped the horrible necklace around her throat. Sometimes Snow watched. Sometimes he talked to her, other times he just sat and watched.

She would usually sit in the sterile white room, completely still, trying not to think about the ring of death ready to kill her. Her daughter was always left in a crib, a few feet away, and given something to let her sleep. Sometimes the dosage was correct, other times, Hope awoke and wanted her mother long before the time was up. Through trial and error Katniss had learnt she could move around slowly and very carefully so long as she didn’t spike her heart heat or breathe too differently. It was a minor win, but not enough when it came to caring for her daughter on those times the sleeping drugs were weak.

On those nights, she lost. The urge to go to her daughter overpowering her common sense and making her heart race or her breath hitch. When that happened, the needles in the collar lashed out and injected the poison into her veins. Before it did, it gave a warning in the form of a harsh beep. Three loud beeps in a row and then the collar activated. She came to hate those beeps. The days after the poison were the worst, she ached and shook, sometimes she couldn’t get warm, or she was too hot. She didn’t want to know what would happen if they dosed her and didn’t give her the antidote in time.

So, she perfected the art of breathing slowly, of controlling her pulse. She mastered the ability to zone out of the moment yet remain aware. She numbed herself to what was going on around her.

Katniss got the feeling Snow was disappointed she didn’t slip up more. That’s not to say she never did, but when she didn’t, she felt like she won. She liked to win.

She knew the captured tributes were on the floor as well. She heard their screams. Both women. Johanna and Annie. Katniss didn’t know what was being done to them and she tried not to think about it. Her imagination could probably not do the reality any sort of justice. Which was a horrifying thought best left alone.

As best she could tell, three weeks had passed since she was first introduced to the collar. Hope was almost two months old. She should be learning, living. Instead she was lounging in a cot or held in her mother’s arms. No one else held her, no one else bothered to know her.

Katniss wished every night that Hope could be with Peeta. If anything, the little girl needed her father, needed a loving home. Wherever home was now. District Twelve was gone, so many people were dead. She had no way of knowing if her family was among them. She had to believe they weren’t, or she had nothing.

The silence of the white room was suddenly broken by harsh shouting and small bangs. Her heart jumped, and the needles threatened. She forced her pulse back down and settled back into her zone.

She stared at the mirror in front of her. The three white walls to either side and behind her were reflected in the wall-to-wall mirror that made up the fourth wall, broken only by the door on her left. She knew from experience that it was also a viewing window, Snow liked to watch her from there. But the lights were off beyond the room allowing her to see out in a rare opportunity to study the outside of her box. It was a lab of some sort, as white and sterile as her bland little cage.

What was that noise?

The lights suddenly all cut out, both inside and outside of her cage. A power outage? As her eyes adjusted to the darkness she began to make out shapes. People? They looked strange and alien. Visions of the mutts from the Games flashed through her mind and she got another warning beep from the collar.

Just as quickly as they had disappeared, the lights came back on, forcing her to squint at the sudden brightness. Then she blinked in shock at the people on the other side.

They were not guards, in their white uniforms and helmets. They were not mutts, clamouring to kill her. They were people, wearing black armour and holding weapons in their hands.

One of them yanked off their headwear and Katniss almost gasped.

Gale!

Her heart pounded before she could stop it and she forced it under control even as her eyes devoured her childhood best friend. He smiled at her. The same old Gale, but there was something dark and old in his eyes too.

“Katniss?” he asked through the window. “We’re here to get you out.”

Her eyes flicked to her right, were Hope was still sleeping. He followed her gaze and his smile softened.

They broke the door down and Gale led the way in. Katniss followed him with her eyes even as she couldn’t move her head.

Gale stopped a few feet away, obviously taking note of her posture. “Are you sitting on a bomb?”

Katniss slowly and carefully raised her hand and gestured to her neck. The collar was a thick piece of leather and poison with a metal lock at her nape. It was hard to miss.

“Will it explode if you move?” Gale asked, so serious.

She used the hand signal they had used over the years when they were hunting together to say no.

“Can you move?” another person asked, another man. “We need to leave.”

Katniss flicked her eyes to Gale and then to Hope. He got the message and carefully picked up the baby, handing his weapon to another person in black.

Katniss watched as he beamed at her daughter. She had to fight to keep her practised calm. She wanted to scream and cry and laugh. A swell of relief and fear was welling her stomach and threatening to come up her throat, to choke her. She needed to be calm.

Carefully Katniss stood and allowed a moment to settle her vitals.

“Can we get it off?” the same man asked, eyeing Katniss’ collar. “It could have a tracking chip in it.”

“No time. Just get her airborne and we’ll sort it out later. It’s not like they don’t already know where we are,” another man stated.

Katniss made her way as calmly as she could to an aircraft of some sort. She didn’t focus on the details. She had to remain calm. Detached. She had to make sure she was alive when she reached safety.

That was one fact she couldn’t help but to let settle in. She was free. She and Hope were free.

 

***** *****

Peeta had been restless since Haymitch had told him they were executing a raid on the Capitol. They had figured out where the captured Tributes were being held. They were going to retrieve their Mockingjay.

While he paced the room, Prim sat in a chair, cuddling that damn cat she’d brought with her. Her mother sat beside her staring into space. None of them spoke. There was both too much and too little to say.

Haymitch appeared at the door and they all froze, staring expectantly at the older man. There was none of his usual wit as he gestured for them to follow him. The lack of any kind of comment had Peeta’s fear rising.

“What happened with the raid?” he asked, almost dreading the answer.

“They managed to get in and out before the Capitol knew about them. Once they realised, Snow sent his soldiers after the aircraft but by then they were too far away. No casualties on either side. The plan went off without a hitch.” Haymitch delivered the mission report in an almost robotic way as he led them to the infirmary.

Peeta reasoned if they were heading to the infirmary, then they must have rescued someone. A mission without any casualties would not call for a hospital visit.

“Where’s Katniss?” Prim asked, always the more straightforward one.

“This way,” Haymitch didn’t turn and look at them, didn’t paused in his step as he continued leading them through the infirmary.

“Finnick!” a sharp feminine cry caught Peeta’s attention and he turned his head to see the blond man lunging to cradle a redhead woman in his arms. The utter joy on Finnick’s face made Peeta ache for his own wife.

He saw another person in a cot to his left and barely recognised the skinny, bald and bruised figure as the beautiful Johanna Mason. She smirked at him with that familiar cool sharpness he’d known from her during the games then tilted her head in the direction Haymitch was still moving. Peeta nodded back to her and hurried to catch up.

Haymitch led them to a secluded part of the infirmary where a lot more people were gathered. Gale was one of them. He was staring into an examination room with a blank face.

“Gale?” Peeta croaked when he reached the other boy. The taller boy nodded to him but didn’t turn his head.

Peeta followed his gaze and his breath caught. Prim and her mother stood and stared as well, Haymitch disappeared from the peripheral.

Katniss sat, still and straight, on a chair in the middle of a room with people milling on the edges. She stared straight ahead, not seeming to notice them. She wore a hospital gown…and a thick black collar around her throat.

“It’s monitoring her,” Gale said, “If her heartbeat or her breathing change, if she speaks, if she swallows too deeply…it’ll kill her.”

Prim gasped, “It’s a bomb?” Her mother began to cry softly.

“No. It’s loaded with poison inside two needles aimed on either side of her neck. The doctors are trying to figure out if they can remove it.” Gale sounded so grim.

Peeta focussed on his wife. She didn’t seem to know they were there, “Can she see us?”

“She can. But she’s entered a headspace to keep her vitals from spiking. That’s why I’m out here. She was getting too excited with me around. The doctors ordered me out.”

“I want to go in there,” Peeta made to enter the room.

Haymitch suddenly appeared and blocked him. “You can’t go in. It’s too dangerous. She’ll react to you just as she did with Gale. None of us can go in there until the doctor says we can.”

“Then why are we here if we can’t go and see her?” Peeta demanded, frustrated and aching. Finnick and Annie’s embrace taunted him.

Haymitch nodded to the side and Peeta followed his gaze.

A nurse stood beside a bassinet a few feet away. Peeta’s whole being froze in astonishment.

“Is that…?” Prim gasped.

“It is,” Haymitch clasped Peeta’s shoulder, “Congratulations. You’re now the father of a beautiful baby girl.”

Peeta stumbled forward and peered down into the cot. A small bundle in a white blanket with a little cap on an impossibly tiny head lay sleeping. Her chubby cheeks were slack in sleep and one tiny hand flexed on the edge of the blanket. Peeta found himself entranced by the tiniest fingers he’d even seen.

“You can hold her if you want,” the nurse said gently.

Peeta gulped and hesitantly reached out, then retreated, unsure how to hold the tiny person without hurting her.

“Like this,” the nurse picked up the baby and carefully helped Peeta to hold her. As she was manoeuvred around she opened her eyes and blinked hazy blue orbs at him. He froze. Those eyes were the eyes of his child. His baby girl. He was holding his daughter for the first time and she was looking up at him with the quizzical look of an infant trying to figure something out.

“What’s her name?” Peeta asked without taking his eyes of the beautiful miracle in his arms.

“We don’t know, her mother can’t speak so she can’t tell us what the child’s name is,” the nursed informed him.

Peeta nodded once, wondering what Katniss might have called their daughter. There were so many good choices, meaningful names. His nameless child blinked a few more times at him then let loose an agitated grumble.

“She’s hungry,” the baby’s grandmother spoke for the first time in hours and stepped forward with a bottle someone must have passed her, “Let’s see if she’ll take this.”

The baby was most unimpressed with the bottle. She grumbled and cried, turning her head from the synthetic nipple. Finally, after a lot of coaxing, she had managed a small amount and fussed herself into an exhausted sleep. Peeta, now covered in milk and tears, deposited the baby back in her cot and stepped back in astonishment.

“She’s just like her mother, stubborn to a fault,” Katniss’ mother stated fondly.

“Speaking of which, how is she?” Peeta asked as a doctor entered the room they had been put in when the baby started screaming. Gale and Haymitch had retreated but Peeta had had the support of the Everdeen women and a nurse.

Without them he might have started crying too.

The doctor sighed and the look on his face said it all. It was not good news.

 

***** *****

Katniss sat in a state of calm numbness. She knew people moved around her. They took blood and examined the collar. But she allowed it all to happen around her and not to her. She was separate. She was alone.

Finally, someone caught her attention and she allowed herself to focus on the man in the white coat. A doctor.

“Hello, Miss Everdeen, or would you prefer I call you Katniss?” the doctor didn’t wait for an answer, “How are you feeling?”

Katniss signed the word _fine_. Noticing as she did so that Gale was also in the room. She turned her gaze back to the doctor as he looked to Gale for a translation.

“Can you tell me what kind of poison is in the collar?” the doctor asked.

Katniss signed _no_.

“Do you know how we can deactivate it?”

_Key_.

“Snow has the key, I assume?”

_Yes_.

“Is there any other way?”

Katniss hesitated. She knew that the collar would disengage once the poison had been utilized. Hesitantly she signed that response and watched the two men in front of her frown.

“Well that’s a last resort I assure you. Can you eat or drink with it?”

_No_.

The doctor nodded, making a note.

He left and so did Gale. Katniss let herself sink into that calm place again.

What felt like minutes but could have been hours passed before Katniss became aware again.

The same doctor and Gale were in the room once more. Both grim-faced. Gale looked like he might cry.

“I need you to keep calm Miss Everdeen,” the doctor cautioned, “We can’t remove the collar.”

Katniss heard the collar beep indicating a warning, felt the needles prick her throat. Stay calm, he says. She wanted to hit him for saying something so stupid.

“But we have figured out what kind of poison is in the vials and we have managed to come up with a cure for the poison,” the doctor continued, “It’s up to you where we go from here. We can attempt to remove the collar and probably hit one of the many fail safes inside it. Or you can deliberately trigger the collar, we can get it off you and give you the antidote. We’re ready now, to begin whenever you decide.”

Katniss swallowed convulsively and received another warning from the collar. She was suddenly filled with a restless impatience. She wanted this collar off, _now_. She was so tired of it. She was sick of the strain. She wanted it over. She looked around and saw the other doctors and nurses waiting.

She looked to Gale and then beyond him where she saw her family. She had known they were there but had not allowed herself to recognise it as fact. She couldn’t smile at them like she wanted, couldn’t hug them or say goodbye.

She met her mother’s eyes and then her sister’s, hoping to send her love to them through her gaze. Finally, she looked at Peeta and found him holding their daughter. His eyes pleaded with her and he shook his head because he knew what her answer would be.

“Her name is Hope.” Her voice was harsh with disuse, but it carried, and she saw her husband tighten his grip on their daughter, their Hope. She wanted to hear him say _I love you_ , one more time. She wanted to hold him, to show him their daughter.

Instead she heard three beeps before ice flooded her veins and the world faded all around her.

 

***** *****

She awoke to the sound of mockingjays singing outside her window. She opened her eyes and found herself in a room with soft colours and shapes. It was a lovely room, so calm and inviting. She felt relaxed and happy there.

She sat up in bed and found herself wearing a dress, dark and flowing down to her ankles. Her arms were attached to two beautiful wings.

_Cinna_.

She climbed from bed and slowly walked towards the single door to the room. She was barefoot and the floor beneath her was soft.

She opened the door and looked outside.

Children played in the field before her. Adults laughed and relaxed in the shade of fruit trees. She stepped forward to join them.

She smiled as she saw a little girl, blond hair in pigtails, run past her. It reminded her of someone.

_Primrose_.

She moved further into the field, a group of dancing girls caught her up in their arms and twirled her around. She laughed at the dizzying movements and marvelled at how good she felt. She had felt tired before, but now she was full of gentle energy, so calm and happy.

She moved from the dancers to a fruit tree. She reached up and touched the soft petals on a blossom.

_Snow._

She frowned and moved away. She saw a stag bounding through the trees, so big and graceful. Her fingers twitched with muscle memory, reaching for her bow.

_Gale_.

She moved to a lake and sat on the shore she remembered another lake, fear, horror, but she felt none of it now. She felt peaceful.

_Peeta_

That name started a shiver in her core and she frowned at the glimmering waters. Why was she upset in this lovely, peaceful place?

“Katniss?” a deep voice called, and it took her a long moment to realise that the person was calling her. She was Katniss. She was Katniss Everdeen, wife of Peeta Mellark, mother of Hope, sister of Primrose.

She turned and saw a familiar figure striding towards her. The familiar smell of coal and fire following him.

“Dad?” Katniss lurched to her feet and lunged to hug him.

He held his arms open, smile warm and open.

Katniss cried into his coat, unfamiliar fabric emanating a familiar scent.

This was her father.

Her father who had died.

A chill ran up her spine and Katniss leaned back. He stared down at her, a soft understanding smile on his lips.

“It’s okay, Katniss,” he soothed.

Katniss tore her gaze away and studied those around her. Suddenly she began to recognise them. They were people from District Twelve. People she grew up with. But there was more.

A girl in the trees, swinging and laughing, was Rue. Katniss started crying again when she recognised not only the little girl from District Eleven, but the others who had died in the Games.

Mags.

Wiress.

Thresh.

Some of the others she’d never known.

She looked back up to her father only to find he was gone, moving toward the lake. He didn’t look back. She tried to call after him, but the words stuck in her throat.

Katniss turned back to where she had come into the field and saw the door, in the distance. She started running toward it. She felt like she was running through water. There was no adrenaline response to help push herself faster. She felt incredibly calm, but there was a growing sense of urgency calling her onward.

She avoided the dancers, dodged the children, moved around the fruit trees. She watched as the door started to shimmer and fade. She lunged for it, grabbing the doorknob just as the door vanished completely.


	6. Chapter 6

Her eyes were weighed down. Her tongue was stuck to the roof of her mouth. Her limbs were numb.

“Katniss?”

That was her name…Katniss…that was her…Where was that voice?

Where was _she_?

Something touched her right hand. She felt her fingers gripped in a calloused palm, bigger than hers. She tried to grab it, hold onto it. An anchor.

“She’s been unresponsive for almost a full day. She’s not in a coma, but she’s clearly not awake.” An unfamiliar voice. Male. Calm. Were they talking about her?

“She’s brain dead?” the voice who called her name, the one who belonged to that hand, asked. The hand tightened, and she tried once again to respond. Why couldn’t she respond?

“Nothing so simple. The poison was complicated, requiring a second antidote after the injection of the first. We barely got it to her in time to save her life, but we don’t know what it will do to her long term,” the unfamiliar voice replied.

A doctor? She was sick…she had been hurt…

A vivid memory of being collared in the white room flashed before her eyes and she tried to turn her head away.

“Katniss? She just moved!” the familiar voice sounded excited. “Katniss do that again.”

Do what again? She tried to move, to blink to do anything. She wasn’t even sure where her body was, it seemed far away from the rest of her.

Long moments, maybe minutes, passed and there was a sigh.

“Just a fluke, maybe a memory response. She can likely hear us right now, like someone in a coma, but she can’t respond.” The unfamiliar voice was calm and rational, but pitying as well.

“So, you’re saying she might never wake up?” another voice, trembling and female, came from her other side.

“It’s too soon to tell. The poison is an unknown. Quite simply we don’t know what it might do to her. There’s every chance she might wake up.”

The voices faded as her mind was dragged down below the surface. She was underwater. She was floating and weightless. She was…somewhere.

A soft cry brought her from the monotony of floating in the water to the place where she felt heavy. She heard voices again. She tried to open her eyes but couldn’t find them. She moved her tongue, flicked her teeth. Success! Movement, even if her tongue was trapped in her mouth, unable to breach her lips.

“Hope’s been missing you, Katniss.” Familiar voice. Warm and rough.

Peeta.

A jolt of memory: a smiling blond boy, strong arms and broad shoulders. Kindness in the face of starvation. Grimacing with fever in the darkness. Wide-eyed and shouting at her. Beaming at her with love…so much love.

A breath expanded her cheat, she felt it rise and fall, felt something on her skin. A blanket? A shirt?

“Katniss?” that same voice. Peeta’s voice, rising in hope. “Can you hear me?”

Yes, I can hear you, where are you?

She tried her eyes again and felt them scrunch a little with the effort of trying to blink. She tried to reach up to rub her eyes, to get rid of the grit. Her hand was too heavy.

A hand, warm and strong, gripped her fingers. “That’s it,” Peeta urged gently, “Can you open your eyes?”

It was too hard. She was tired. She wanted to go back to that floating place. But then that cry came again, the one that had awoken her in the first place.

Hope.

She had to protect Hope. Had to get to her. Keep her safe.

She curled her fingers towards her palm, trying to make a fist. She dragged it up to her face, her fingers twitching and flexing unable to hold a fist for long. The act of having her nails digging into her palm kept her present, kept herself from drifting. She finally reached her face and rubbed her mouth. Her tongue flicked out, licking her dry lips with a parched tongue.

“I’ll get you some ice chips,” Peeta’s hand disappeared.

Katniss moved her hand up to her eyes and rubbed the gritty orbs before finally managing to blink them open. The world was blurry and it took her several tries before she could focus.

She was in the same room as before. The one where she had been isolated until they figured out the collar. Or was it a different room? Maybe they all looked the same. She couldn’t move her head yet, but she was tilted up in bed enough to see ahead of her. She saw her legs beneath a blanket. She twitched her feet and saw the blanket move, felt the fabric on her toes. One hand was at her side, a drip inserted to give her fluids. The other was resting limply on her chest. She let it too fall to her side.

A figure moved into her line of sight and she tried to smile at seeing her husband standing in the doorway. He looked more exhausted than she felt, his hair in disarray and his eyes shadowed, but his mouth was smiling as he approached the bed.

“Hey, it’s good to see those eyes of yours,” Peeta murmured as if speaking loudly would shatter the moment.

Katniss tried to reach for him. He wet her lips with ice and then sat back while she smacked her lips from the cold moisture.

“You’ve been asleep for two days now. Do you remember what happened?” Peeta asked.

Katniss tried to nod but she felt like she just moved her chin. Peeta reached over and tucked a lock of her dark hair behind her ear. He loved her hair. He smiled at her so fondly, it made her heart ache.

A soft grumble came from out of sight and Katniss’ head tried to turn to look. Peeta was quicker. Moving away and returning with a small bundle in a pink blanket.

Hope.

Katniss wanted to hold her, but her arms were too weak. Peeta settled into the bed next to her and helped Hope rest on her chest.

She looked at her daughter’s sleepy face and wanted to cry. This was why she had fought. Why she had come back from the happy, peaceful place.

“I love you, both of you,” Peeta whispered into her hair.

Katniss couldn’t agree more and allowed herself to relax. She knew there was more to come, their fight was not over, not by a long shot, but for now, this moment, they were fine. They had all they needed.

 

***** *****

The doctors called her recovery miraculous. Katniss didn’t care what they called it. She was fine. Two weeks after she was brought to the mysterious District Thirteen, she was moving about the place on her own.

She was a little startled by the reverence some of the people showed her. No, not her. The Mockingjay. She was a symbol of their effort. Katniss was like the pin she had worn into the Games, a token of rebellion.

Now what could she do?

Senator Coin wanted her to fight, to be a driving force behind the rebellion. Many others said the same. She was meant to pave the way for change.

“They believe in you, what you represent. Without you, they’ll fall back into servitude, without you, we’ll all fail.” Coin was a master at playing on guilt.

Katniss had never wanted to be a symbol of rebellion. She had never wanted to be seen. She had just wanted to survive. But that was no longer an option.

She discussed it with Peeta. Though they often argued more than discussed.

“It’s not your fight anymore, you’ve done enough!”

“How can I have done enough when we’re still not free, when we’re hiding in fear of the Capitol?”

“Think about Hope, she needs her mother.”

“She needs her father too. But she also needs to grow up without worrying about going into the Games, without hiding in a hole for the rest of her life. Because that’s the future she has with the way things stand now.”

They could not agree.

The war, the rebellion, the conflict, whatever name everyone called it, heated up shortly after Katniss was rescued. As if they had been waiting for her. It was a heavy burden and she felt their fate resting on her shoulders.

“Mom, you need to take care of Hope,” Katniss said the day her daughter turned six months old. The happy little baby was oblivious to all the tension around her, but Katniss felt like time was running out. She never wanted her baby to know this life.

Her mother was grim and pale when she accepted Hope from Katniss, promising, with a rare show of courage, to protect her grandchild.

Katniss and Peeta were gone by morning. They joined with the frontline soldiers, fighting to get around the traps and soldiers in the Capitol.

Call it luck, fate, or skill, but they managed to infiltrate the Capitol, they skimmed past the traps, the mutts, the guards. Katniss watched as the men and women in her unit were killed, maimed, left behind.

She strode toward the gates with weary resignation. One way or another this would end. Gale at her side, Peeta lost somewhere behind her in the throng of people moving to hide in the palace.

BOOM!

A truck exploded. Chaos reigned as people screamed and scrambled in all directions. Katniss was thrown into the street and trampled. She curled into a ball to protect her head.

When she could, she stood in a daze, ears ringing. She looked around at the dead. People from the Capitol, lying in broken colours and blood. Ash fell from the sky.

She looked up to see people still running toward the palace. She watched in a daze as bombs fell from the sky instead of ash.

A trilling beep, like the sound from her collar, caught her attention and she looked up just as a bomb detonated above her head.

 

***** *****

She had been on fire. She had burned until someone had put the flames out. She hadn’t had her wings this time. Still, the image of the burning Mockingjay had become something of a common eyesore around the Capitol after the rebels turned the tide and won.

When she opened her eyes Peeta was in the bed beside her. He smiled around the bandages on his face. “We need to stop meeting like this.”

A helpless chuckle broke from her chapped lips.

Her mother, wan and pale, appeared with Prim in tow, Hope in her arms. The baby squealed upon seeing her mother.

It was a happy moment, a tired but triumphant fragment of time.

When the Capitol bombed their own people to get rid of the rebels, the public turned on Snow astronomically fast. It was over, it was all over so…completely, finally.

Coin was President now. She had the world at her fingertips. She wanted to reinstate the Hunger Games, but using the Capitol’s children instead of those from the Districts.

“Give them a taste of their own medicine,” Johanna agreed with the new President. That bitterness, that rage, hadn’t softened at all over the course of the fighting, “Coin’s got a granddaughter.”

Katniss thought of the young girl who reminded her of Prim. Lilia was so young, so innocent. The granddaughter of a monster. They shared the same eyes, but where his were cold indifference, hers were sweet and sincere. Asking Katniss to play with her. To join her for tea. She wondered what the girl’s eyes looked like now that her world had crumbled down around her.

“No.” Peeta was ungiving in his opinion. He was smart enough not to glare but he shot the new President a disdainful glance before looking away.

Katniss refused as well. In the end, the vote for the reinstatement of the Games was negative. Coin looked frustrated but accepted. There was something about her that reminded Katniss of Snow. But her mask was not superiority and mind games, Coin’s was gentle and caring. Katniss wondered what hid beneath that pretty face.

“What about Snow?” Katniss asked. She knew the man was alive.

“He’ll be executed tomorrow at dawn. Will you do the honours?” Coin’s calculating gaze chilled her, but Katniss agreed.

She went walking with Peeta and Hope in the gardens of the palace. She had not been allowed this far when she had been an unwilling guest and some morbid fascination urged her to explore her prison.

“What’s in there?” Peeta asked, pointing to a solarium guarded by men in rebel uniforms. Katniss shrugged and moved forward.

They entered the indoor garden and Katniss looked around in awe and unease at the sight of all the white roses. She plucked one by the stem and moved it under the light. A golden shimmer sparkled on the pure petals. Poison? Snow was well known for poisons. She knew this first hand. She had also learnt from Finnick about Snow’s propensity for poison. And an interesting fact she might be able to use if she ever saw the former President again.

“Miss Everdeen, how delightful it is to see you here,” a familiar voice sent a shiver up her spine and she dropped the rose in fright. As if merely thinking his name had summoned him, there he was.

Formerly-President Snow stood in a robe set that looked like elite pyjamas and slippers. For once he was not adorned in his dapper suits with the rose in the lapel. Then again, he was surrounded by his beautiful obsession and had no one to show off to.

Peeta growled and hugged Hope to his chest. The baby fretted at the tightened hold. Katniss couldn’t take her eyes off her tormenter. He looked small, frail. Instead of the imposing powerful figure he looked…old. There was that ever-present element of danger to him that had been honed for decades, that cold glint in his defiant eye, but while his mind was ever sharp and eyes watchful, his body was failing to hold up to standards.

“What do you think of my garden? I never did show you this place, did I?” Snow moved to sit on a garden chair.

“What are you doing in here?” Katniss asked.

Snow shrugged, cool as ever, “Your new leader deemed me fit enough to hide here amongst my treasures while I await my fate. I assume you will be doing the honours, Miss Everdeen?”

Said with the same cool calculating tone as Coin. The word, _honours_ , suddenly sounded anything but honourable.

“You have questions,” Snow mused, “Shall we play one final round of our game?”

Katniss hissed through her teeth at the reminder. Truth or Dare. She had lost more than she had won. The game didn’t matter anymore. Snow could not hurt her. Yet she found herself taking a seat across from him. Peeta moved to stand behind her but said nothing, for which Katniss was grateful.

Snow began, “Truth or Dare?”

“Truth.”

“How many?”

“One.”

“Reason.”

“You have one day left to live.” So, she might be driving the dagger in deeper, after all he had done, she didn’t feel particularly bad about that. Yet he didn’t seem offended, only amused.

“Accepted.” Snow paused, studying her. She waited, keeping his gaze. Finally, he asked, “What is to become of my family?”

Katniss blinked, surprised that this was his final question. “That’s not for me to decide.”

“You didn’t answer my question.”

Katniss sighed, “I don’t know how much of your family is still alive. Coin has them sequestered away in a wing of the Palace until she decides what to do with them.”

Snow studied her for a long moment then inclined his head in acceptance. “Your turn.”

“Truth or Dare?”

“Truth.”

“How many?”

“One.”

“Reason?”

“There is only one day left until you kill me.” Unlike Snow, Katniss was affected by the words. She felt them resonate in her soul. She was prepared to kill this man, to see him dead at least, but being reminded that she was the killer…

“Accepted.” Katniss thought hard about her question. Finally, she asked something that had been nagging at her since she learnt the fate of the rebels. “Did you send those bombs that killed the people outside your gate?”

Snow’s face showed nothing. “What reason could I have for bombing my own people? Some of those children were the offspring of my guards. When they learnt that bombs had been sent in the form of Capitol gifts, they all threw down their weapons and surrendered. The rebels won with no further fuss.”

Katniss studied the infuriating man in front of her trying to figure out if he was lying. His words dripped with honeyed lies daily. It was impossible to tell full truth from half-truth.

She looked to Peeta. Her husband gave nothing away, yet a look in his eyes showed his turmoil. She turned back to Snow. “Your turn.”

“Truth or Dare?”

“Dare.”

Snow smiled and it was not a pleasant one. Then it was gone and he regarded her with his typical arrogance. “When you execute me tomorrow. Take a moment to look at Coin before you do.”

Katniss waited for more, for more instruction. None came and Snow just sat silently, waiting, until she said, “Accepted. Truth or Dare?”

“Dare.”

Katniss paused because he had never accepted a Dare before. He was always about the truth; his power was in words. Her brain stalled as she tried to think of something. Finally, it came to her and a calm settled over her as she knew she would win.

“Show me your tongue.”

For the first time since she’d known him, his eyes betrayed him. He looked startled for a brief moment. “Excuse me?”

“Open your mouth and show me your tongue. You have thirty seconds, starting now, to comply. You must show your tongue for ten seconds.”

“Your reasoning?”

“I don’t have to give you that for a Dare.”

“Humour me.”

“Do you remember the first time we played this game?”

“Of course.”

“The final question I asked you, do you remember your answer?”

_Never let them see you bleed_.

Katniss could see the moment of remembrance, of dawning understanding. He lost his smugness, his arrogance, and suddenly he looked defeated, for a long moment. Then he sat and stared at her as the time ticked down.

Thirty seconds were over in a flash.

“I win.” Katniss rose smoothly. Without looking back, she turned and walked away, Peeta at her side, leaving the broken former President to his roses.

 

***** *****

The next time she saw Snow, she was walking down the path of Tributes. Three times she had been down this path to face Snow at the end, but this would be the last, and he was not in control this time.

She walked, wearing black armour and sharp makeup, a quiver on her back and bow in her hand. The crowd cheered and gathered behind her as she passed. The long path that stretched before her was eaten up too quickly as she marched, unwavering, to the rhythm of the drums.

Coin delivered a stirring speech then all was silent as they waited for Katniss to fire the final arrow into Snow’s black heart. For a man who had delivered so much pain and destruction, he stood calmly and at ease. Wearing the same robe as the last time she saw him. He met her gaze dead on, unafraid.

Katniss nocked an arrow then paused.

_Take a moment to look at Coin_.

Despite herself, she did. She looked up at the podium where the new President of Panem was waiting, cool and collected, in the same place Snow had stood for so many years. Coin had wanted this for a long time and had finally backed the winning horse. Ushering the rebels into action.

Katniss, with a stirring feeling of dread, suddenly saw the future as it could be. She saw different faces, different tactics, different reasons…yet the same person. Snow and Coin were the same, they wanted the power and were willing to do anything to get it. Snow had swallowed poison for years to keep his power. What would Coin do?

_Anything._

Coin had wanted to reinvent the Hunger Games, but what would that serve? Except to drive the wedge even firmer between the Districts and the Capitol. But that was what she wanted, wasn’t it? The rebels would be so grateful for Coin, so glad Snow was gone, they would be lost in their hatred of the Capitol. But then what?

Where did it end? In fifty years, one hundred years, maybe more, would the subdued Capitol rise in retaliation? Would it begin all over again?

Katniss drew back the string and aimed her arrow at Snow. He stared back calmly. Katniss tensed, made her decision, and let her arrow fly true.

It struck Coin in the chest. With barely a gasp she tumbled from her throne to lay in an elegant heap on the ground.

Over the gasps and shouts from the crowd behind her, Snow finally showed her his tongue, his blood-stained tongue, as he laughed with his mouth wide open.

The crowd surged behind Katniss, swarming around her for Snow. Some rebel guards gathered her to them and hurried her away. Katniss tried to find Peeta in the crowd, her mother, her sister. But all she saw was the furious people converging on the one who had wronged them, their shouts drowning out his laughter, and almost smothering his screams.

And so ended the reign of President Snow, and President Coin. On the same day. One by the rebel who was supposed to be a martyr, the other by the people who had been abused for too long.


	7. Epilogue

Hope’s first word was ‘Ma’. In a humorous coincidence, she was reaching for Peeta when she said it. Much to his chagrin, Katniss never let him forget it.

They lived in what was once District Twelve. They built themselves a house away from what used to be their home. Prim and her mother had their own home right beside them. They lived far enough from the mine and the old town that they could almost forget the destruction. Except for on those days when the wind blew a certain way. Both Prim and her mother would freeze, just for a moment, as if they could still smell the burning and hear the screams.

Time heals all wounds, but scars are not easily forgotten.

In time, others joined them, a small town began to blossom over the hill from where the bones of the dead still lay. The town ruins were untouched after all the years since the rebellion. Few people returned to the area, too broken and scared of old ghosts. Instead, others came, from other Districts, looking for a chance to escape their own ghosts.

The fire had burnt their world to ash and dust, but nature had a way of reclaiming what was abandoned. Grass overtook the old boundaries, trees sprouted amidst the old stones. Bones were buried in the earth, their unnamed graves a testament to how things used to be.

Gale moved away, fleeing the guilt from not saving everyone. Katniss mourned for her friend and was happy when he visited. He had grown up into a man unlike the boy she had known. There was little spark left in him during those early years of upheaval. His purpose was helping people get back to a semblance of normalcy. He built homes, schools, worked hard and never stayed in the same place long.

Haymitch stayed in the Capitol with Effie. Katniss wasn’t entirely sure of what their relationship could be called. Friends? Lovers? She didn’t feel she had the right to ask. They were happy, so that was all she cared about.

Coin and Snow had been buried without much fanfare. Those who respected them and were unafraid of public condemnation, showed up at the funerals, but most watched from a distance. Many wanted to forget.

Plutarch was President. Katniss heard stories of how he was changing the world, bringing about a new Panem the likes of which scared many and fascinated all. The new rules and regulations he implemented seemed destined to go down in history as truly remarkable notions. The Hunger Games were a distant memory. People still held onto their bitterness and rage, but most were happy to let the past go. It would be a long road to true cohesion, but Katniss had a feeling the cunning former Game Maker would be the one to do it.

Sometimes Katniss woke up in the middle of the night, screaming from the terror of the games, the fighting, the horror of losing so much. Other nights she woke up and couldn’t move. Those were scarier nights. When it was dark, and she couldn’t move, it was like she was back in that in-between place after the collar was removed. That peaceful place haunted her sometimes more than the dead.

She would get there eventually, she reasoned. She would reach the end of her story, she would join her father in that happy place. He would still be waiting there for her, smiling.

When Hope was five, she gained a baby brother. Katniss named him for her father. She never had to worry about either of her children being chosen for the Hunger Games. They would never know the horror their parents had experienced in those years of upheaval.

Prim married and had her own children. They grew up alongside their cousins and none of them would ever know the life their parents had lived. They would grow up…differently. Better than their parents had even dreamed of at their age. It was a foreign concept for people who didn’t know any other way to live.

A decade after the end of Snow and Coin, Katniss received a letter from a girl she’d known for a fleeting time.

Lilia Snow.

When Katniss received the letter, she felt sick. President Snow had done a lot of damage during his reign, but his granddaughter had adored him. Katniss had kept herself as far from the political world of the Capitol as she could so until she received the letter, she had been able to forget about the little girl she’d played with. The little girl like Prim. Innocent eyes and a sweet smile.

The letter smelt like roses and another lurch of nausea almost had her ripping the paper into little pieces. She was glad that Peeta had taken the children out to play. She didn’t want to explain why she was gagging over the sink.

After an age just staring at the crisp white paper, she opened the letter with shaking fingers and started to read.

_Dear Katniss,_

_I really don’t know what to say. I can’t say thank you, like so many others. Because while you may not have killed him, you led to my grandfather’s death. For all his faults, I loved him. He was not perfect, as I have come to learn he was considered a monster by many, but he was still my grandfather. So, I can’t say thank you._

_I heard you’ve started up a new District near the old District Twelve. I’ve heard people say it’s a haunted graveyard. They say the same thing about my old home. They pulled it down, you know. The Presidential Palace. People from the Districts volunteered to tear it down and set fire to the place I was born. I can’t thank you for that either, but neither can I blame you._

_They’ve erected a memorial listing all the people who died in the ~~war~~ rebellion. On both sides. There’s no telling them apart. Some people don’t like that the rebels are listed in the same way as those from the Capitol. But not all the rebels came from the Districts, right? There were those in the Capitol who weren’t happy with my grandfather either. You should come and see it some time. They’ve built a giant Mockingjay statue that shelters the list of names with its wings._

_Can you believe there are people who don’t know about the conflict? I overheard some people at the memorial just last week. A child asking why a Mockingjay was part of the memorial. That’s what got me started writing this letter. I can never forget you, what you did. For a long time, I couldn’t forgive you either. But then I heard the mother of that child say, “That’s the Mockingjay who saved us”. I’d never heard those words before. All I’d heard was “defeated”, “killed”, “conquered”. Never “saved”._

_So, I sat down to write this letter and I still don’t really know what to say. I suppose I could say I forgive you. For changing things. For making them better. I can’t forgive you for how my grandfather died. Not yet and maybe not ever. But I think that’s okay._

_I’m happy. Happier than I would have ever been as President Snow’s granddaughter. I got to marry the man I chose. I have a child now, a son. He’s going to grow up out of President Snow’s shadow. I’ll make sure he never knows who his great grandfather was, only the kind things I remember about him. I think it’s better for everyone if the legacy of President Snow end with him._

_I have more to say but I’m not ready to say it yet. Perhaps in another letter. I’ve attached my address to this envelope and if you feel like it, write me back. I understand if you don’t, better than anyone, actually._

_Sincerely_

_Lilia_

 

Katniss read the letter again before she could put it down. She had never really allowed herself to think about what became of the Snow family. Living as she did, she’d fully expected to never hear from them, or about them.

The little girl she had played with was all grown up. She was married, had a child. The letter was enlightening but also confusing. What was she to make of it all?

Peeta entered at that moment, laughing as he dragged his children behind him. A laughing Hope clinging to his waist while her brother sat on broad shoulders. A moment of clarity hit, and the letter was pushed to the back of her mind.

It had all been for Hope, for the other children who would be born, that the rebels had marshalled behind the Mockingjay. For Prim’s children, Lilia’s son, the child who didn’t know what the Mockingjay meant. For the children who would never need to know the cruelty their parents had witnessed. They would grow up learning alongside their parents, what it meant to be free. Free from fear of the Hunger Games. From starvation and struggle. From the almighty Capitol ready to rain hellfire down on them. They would all learn what that was like now.

They were all free.

 


End file.
